


The Magicians and The Key to Happiness

by coldfiredragon



Series: Shoulder to Shoulder [8]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: 'Shoulder to Shoulder With You' future fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Relationships, Fairy Tale Elements, Future Fic, M/M, Some StS spoilers, Welters Entry: Blackout, fillorians have fables too, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 10:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfiredragon/pseuds/coldfiredragon
Summary: When Eliot, Quentin, Margo, and Julia are trapped in Fillory by the loss of magic they handle being under Fairy thumb in different ways.As Julia's growing powers become too great to handle alone she decides to confide in Eliot.  To build up the nerve she shows him the remnants of a real-life Fillorian fable.Welters Entry 2018 - Blackout





	The Magicians and The Key to Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This is future fic for my 'Shoulder to Shoulder With You' universe. It's set in that 2 month gap between magic being turned off, and Eliot being given the key quest. That said the fic is a little spoiler heavy, so be warned
> 
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> 
> Happy reading!

When magic got turned off, and the fairies invaded, there were four of them trapped in Castle Whitespire. Eliot felt an ineluctable sense of guilt that Julia was caught up in all of it; she'd barely been given time to move her things into the empty Queen's suite before they found themselves under fairy thumb. To her credit, Julia was handling everything in stride. The Fillorians didn't know her, and the Fairy Queen didn't seem to know what to make of her. She had an autonomy that Eliot envied – one that let her leave Whitespire in riding trousers and high boots without so much as a backward glance. 

Most days she was back before dinner. Usually dust-covered, and tracking bits of mud through Whitespire's immaculate hallways. Tick hated it, which made Eliot and Quentin love it. Even Margo, who the Fairy Queen hounded with ridiculous requests on a near daily basis found some amusement in it. Eliot hated to admit it, but he was starting to suspect that the queen claiming his best friend's eye had been a practical move. The Queen wore her trophy like jewelry, but Eliot believed it was more than an aesthetic bauble; he feared she was using it to spy on them actively. 

He hadn't dared voice the concern to Margo's face, but he and Quentin had quietly agreed to test the theory; to give it multiple tests, to be certain. They did a lot of things quietly these days, nearly every intimate gesture they made to one another in public had a bit of code attached. Eliot licked his lips as he heard the faint click of Margo's heels against the polished stone of Whitespire's halls. She and Quentin rounded the corner, and Quentin grinned as he stepped closer to kiss him. His husband hand landed against the middle of his back and stroked downward, when Quentin's hand squeezed his ass Eliot laughed into the kiss and copied the gesture. Go time. 

“I swear you two; the fairies are probably afraid of catching cooties.”

“The fairies don't know enough about cooties to be truly afraid.” Eliot teased. He looped his arm around Quentin's shoulder. “Did Quentin tell you that I'm thinking about purchasing a townhouse in Barion?” Eliot asked as the three of them walked down the hall. It was a purchase he'd made in his first months as king. The others had gone back to Brakebills in search of the Rhinemann Ultra, and he had needed a way to feel normal. Unfortunately, one thing after another had gone wrong after the defeat of the Beast, and he'd never taken the time to do more than furnish it. “I thought it might be a nice escape from the palace.”

“Wouldn't that be the dream.” Margo muttered. “What's it going to be? A little love-nest for the two of you?” Eliot hummed in agreement. He hated the idea that they might have to give up the house, but he wasn't going to tell Margo he already owned it, so he might still save it. 

“That's what I was hoping.” Quentin had loved the idea of a private retreat when Eliot had told him about it. His husband pressed against his side, and Eliot leaned down to claim another short kiss. 

“Well I don't have a problem with it if you were looking for my permission.” Margo tugged a hand back over her intricately braided hair; her pace quickened. “Have fun with it. I'll hold down the castle and deal with the goddamn fairies.” Her tone turned bitter as she put a greater distance between them. Eliot let his shoulders fall. He hated the insurmountable gulf that had grown between the two of them; she didn't deserve to be left in the dark.

“And now we see if she took the bait.” Quentin whispered once Margo had disappeared around a corner and was out of earshot. Eliot kissed the smaller man hard on the mouth, no code intended. 

“I hope I'm wrong.” Eliot whispered back. He tugged Quentin's hair free from the ponytail to rake his fingers through the smooth strands. “God, how did everything get this fucked up?” 

“It's my fault.” Quentin reminded him. 

“No it's not.” Eliot roughly pressed Quentin's back against the closest wall. “It's our fault; it was my plan. There's a way to get it magic back, Q. We will find it.” 

“I still think maybe we can wish it back, with a questing beast.” Eliot doubted that the Winter Doe had that kind of power. They had discussed this before, but Quentin hadn't quite given up on the idea that she, or one of the other Beasts, could play a role in the solution. 

“If it's as simple as a wish, I'll take it.” He agreed, any fix was preferable to their current quagmire. Eliot let Quentin slide back under his arm so they could continue down the hall. The Fairy Queen stood rigidly behind Margo's chair, invisible to the rest of their court. She tilted her chin to the pair of them as they entered the council chamber. She didn't immediately mention the townhouse. Eliot mentally crossed his fingers as Tick blustered toward them with an armload of royal petitions. Early in their reign, they had decided that it was best to split the duties so that each of them had a specialty. Quentin had taken over the crown's treasury; Margo had taken on domestic petitions – which Julia was supposed to help with, Eliot handled anything that was external. As the fairy queen read over Margo's shoulder, Eliot slipped a letter from the Lorian court off the table and down onto his thigh. The meeting adjourned for lunch about three hours later

“The three of you stay.” The Queen told them as Tick and Rafe filtered from the room with the rest of their advisers. Abigail continued to hang silently from her perch. Eliot shifted, he'd folded the letter during the meeting, and he used the opportunity to shove it into his pocket now. Across the table, he saw Quentin lick his lips. The younger man squirmed in his seat as their 'Master' circled around the room. “Margo...” 

“Let me guess, more mushrooms, or maybe it's worms this time, or snails, or puppy dog tails” 

“Stop guessing.” The Queen cut Margo off mid-sentence. Margo continued to glare as Eliot exchanged a helpless glance with Quentin. “Beetles.” The Queen continued. 

“What about beetles?” Margo snapped. 

“There is a species that has a two-year gestation cycle. It's your lucky day my dear; their eggs will start hatching out of the ground tomorrow morning. You'll find them around the bases of the trees surrounding Whitespire. I want as many bucket fulls as you can gather before they die off in five days.” 

“They have a glossy blue shell and bright yellow wings, Margo.” Quentin adding his two cents didn't help make Margo any less pissy. “They sound kinda like cicadas.” 

“An excellent observation, Quentin.” The Fairy Queen praised. Quentin's knowledge of Fillory's nuisances seemed to have gained him a point or two of favor with her. Anything that kept his husband in the Queen's best graces and out of her cross-hairs was fine with Eliot, even if they made Quentin sound like a bit of a suck up. 

“Fuck you, Quentin! You aren't the only one who read the Fillory books!” Margo snapped. 

“You are dismissed, Margo.” The Fairy Queen told her before the tension could thicken further. She waited until the chamber door had slammed shut behind Margo before turning her attention back to the two of them. 

“Quentin, by your best estimate, what is the state of the royal treasury?” Eliot watched the younger man nervously shuffle through the ledger sheets he'd made. 

“Without the precious stone we had access to before its hard to tell.” He admitted a few moments later. Eliot listened to him rattle off some figures, including how much gold remained by weight. 

“Eliot.” Eliot's turned his head to hold the female's gaze. “With Fillory's finances so unstable you should consider every option to reduce discretionary spending.” An almost smile had spread across her face. “Don't you agree?” Eliot felt like an iron band had wrapped around his chest; he had a feeling this was the Queen's subtle way of telling him she listened without overtly stating it.

“Of course.” He agreed as amicably as he could manage. “Quentin and I will figure out where appropriate adjustments can be made.” 

“Very good, the two of you may go.” Eliot stood, and waited for Quentin so that Q wouldn't be the last one to leave the room. He watched his partner's posture slump as the doors closed behind them. 

“You were right.” 

“I didn't want to be.” Eliot looped his arms around Quentin's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair. 

“We can't tell Margo anything.” He sounded so disheartened. Eliot pulled Quentin tight against his chest. “How are we supposed to fight back if we can't trust each other, El?” 

“Maybe we fight back with disinformation. I trust you and Julia. I'll figure out a way to let Margo know what's happening. This isn't hopeless, Love. You know that, right?” In the darkness of the hallway, Quentin melted into his hold. 

“Of course I do, I mean, in theory. Yes.” Quentin cocked his head to look at him. “How do you do that?” Eliot leaned down to press an affectionate peck to Quentin's mouth. 

“Do what?” 

“Sound so confident?”

“My brief stint as a high school thespian prepared me well. We should get lunch before we miss the chance.” Eliot felt just as disheartened as Quentin was, just as fearful that magic would never come back and they would be stuck like this forever. Something would break soon, either the Fairy Queen would either kill them over a perceived misstep, or the Fillorians would revolt and take the castle. Eliot wasn't sure which was more likely at this point. He and Quentin walked arm in arm towards the luncheon hall. Margo had skipped the meal, which was frustrating in and of itself. His oldest friend was hurting; Eliot hated to watch it. She had already accused him more than once of playing favorites between her and Quentin. It certainly wasn't something he wanted to do, but with Quentin trapped in the mix, he had at very least an unconscious bias. 

Lunch was half over when the door swung wide, and Julia strode in. A fine layer of dust had created a painted ombré effect to the middle of her boots. Brown hair had was pulled into a tight ponytail against the base of her neck. 

“Hey, Q.” Her face was blank as she filled a plate for herself. Rather than take the open seat beside Quentin, Eliot watched her take the seat directly across from him. Julia moved the chair closer to the table; she didn't fidget as she unrolled silverware and started to eat. “How was the morning council meeting?” She asked after a few minutes of silence had hung between them. 

“Uneventful.” Eliot laid his fork down and stretched his neck to pop it. Julia pushed her plate to the side to create room to rest her elbows on the table. Idly, in a gesture that was practiced almost to the point that it seemed random, she twisted the only ring she wore in clockwise circles around her finger. Eliot recognized as one of earliest bits of code he and Quentin had hashed out. When one or the other twisted their wedding bands clockwise, it meant that the two of them needed to talk in private. Eliot lazily stretched his arms over his head. “Would you care if I went riding with you in the morning? I haven't been out of the castle in over a week.” 

“The three of you are always welcome.” Julia ate with a little more vigor when she picked her fork back up. 

“I can handle the morning meeting.” Quentin offered, he'd picked up Julia's coded message as well. Eliot could have kissed him but reigned in hard on the urge. It was a small blessing that Margo hadn't been there to spoil it potentially. His brief streak of good luck continued when the Fairy Queen skipped the afternoon council meeting and didn't show herself throughout the rest of the evening. 

The next morning Julia had a pair of horses saddled and waiting when he arrived at the stables. Eliot yawned as he swung himself up onto his horse's back and settled. He and Quentin had spent much of the night hashing out a few preliminary budget cuts. The castle was already running relatively lean. His cover, if the Queen asked, was that he'd accompanied Julia to inspect blighted fruit trees in the Southern Orchards. 

Eliot let Julia lead. It was hot, and the light linen shirt he'd chosen clung to his back. Margo's 'cicadas' had hatched in full force. The branches of some trees were practically laden with them; the hum of their mating calls was a dense, thick thrum that faded the farther the two of them got from the castle. Eliot felt relaxed in the saddle. He'd learned how to ride in Whitehall Indiana, but he hadn't excelled at it until he'd become king. It was one of the few things he'd enjoyed doing while he'd been trapped in Fillory alone during those early few months. Beside but slightly ahead of him Julia seemed equally comfortable in the saddle, and with the Fillorians they passed. The Fairy Queen was underestimating her relevance as a royal. Eliot urged his horse forward to catch up with hers. 

“So what do you do when you leave the palace every morning?” He asked. 

“I explore, I work with my hands. Sometimes in the fields, wherever I feel I'm needed most for the day.” Eliot silently wished he'd done more of that. His most successful point as high king had been when he'd worked with his hands and taught the farmers more effective techniques. A small bird circled them, then landed right on Julia's shoulder. It sang out what Eliot swore was a message, then hopped onto Julia's gloved finger so she could lift it back into the air. 

“Even the talking animals seem to have taken a liking to you.” He mused as they rode south toward the rolling hills of fruit trees. 

“It just started happening recently.” Julia murmured. 

“What just started happening?” 

“The birds.” Julia suddenly seemed distant, like she was listening to something far away, something only she could hear. 

“Julia, what....”

“Later.” She assured him before he could launch the fleet of questions that were forming in his mind. They rode in silence for nearly thirty more minutes, and then Julia urged her horse off the road and onto a side trail. Eliot let his horse set the pace as it picked its way through the roots and uneven tracks. The path they followed led vaguely upward until eventually there was a cut in the trees. The two of them could see Whitespire in the distance. The unspoiled landscape made air catch in Eliot's throat; it was one of those grand views that only Fillory could supply. “Come on; it's not that much farther.” Julia urged after she'd given him a few minutes to soak in the view. The trees thickened and the path became overgrown as Julia led him through a grove of peach trees. Eliot made a mental note to fill his saddle bag with fruit for Quentin and Margo. 

The trees thinned and gave way to a clearing, where a single story house stood. It wasn't big by Earth standards, but it was sizable by Fillorian metrics. Gardens that were decades overgrown had spread to cover the side of the building they buffeted. Grape vines, not native to Fillory, grew in abundance. The only area that wasn't overgrown was a large sand pit. The top layer of which glittered like burnt glass. Julia swung off her horse as the edge of the clearing; Eliot followed her. 

“Who lives here?” He inquired aloud. 

“No one, now.” 

“So, what is this place?” Eliot followed her across the clearing. Brittle, broken clay tiles in a myriad of sun-bleached colors crunched under their boots as they neared the burnt out pit. 

“Probably the closest thing Fillory has to a historical landmark.” 

“That doesn't help me much, Julia.” She laughed softly. 

“You know if you reread the books you would probably make Q really happy? There's a lot more truth in them than I expected. In the book, the dwarves sent Jane here to work a mosaic puzzle that would give her a magical key.”

“How did you find the house?” 

“I asked around. I thought if it was real, and I could find it, then I could bring Q, and it might cheer him up a little.” Eliot reached to squeeze her hand, touched by the concern for Quentin that she still had despite everything that had happened to them. Julia returned the squeeze and crossed the clearing; with a grunt, she shouldered open the ancient door. “There's a fairy-tale, fable thing the Fillorians tell their children that involves this place.” She continued as Eliot followed her inside. Considering his height he'd expected to have to duck, but the ceilings were high enough to give him plenty of clearance. He had so many questions, but Julia seemed content to tell her story at a leisurely pace. 

“What's the fable?” The house was in remarkable shape. Eliot's gaze strayed around the space, the main room was mostly living area and kitchen, a trio of doors stood on the far wall, two opened into bedrooms; the third lacked a doorknob and was tightly shut. Curiosity drew him towards the sealed room, and he gave the door an experimental push. It failed to budge. 

“I've heard a couple of different versions.” Julia admitted. “The one most people have told me is that the person who worked the mosaic and finished it would have the beauty of all life revealed to them and be given the key to a great magical power.”

“Working a mosaic doesn't sound so hard, someone seems to have figured it out.” Eliot watched her as she moved around the living room. Ragged curtains got pulled closed, and the entrance door got shut; it blanketed the two of them in semi-darkness. Dust mites hovered in the narrow cross-sections of light that remained. 

“There were millions of possible choices.” Julia explained. “Finding the right pattern was the trick, the Fillorians say that most people who tried didn't stay for more than a month or two.” Eliot was really failing to see the point of the story, or why Julia had brought him here. He sank onto an old couch and rested his elbows on his knees as he watched her pace. 

“Julia...” 

“I'm trying, Eliot.” She suddenly seemed more unnerved than he had seen her since magic had gone away. “The story doesn't mean shit, but we're here, and the house is here, and the house is safe because nobody comes here. I have to show you something... I'll make my point, just let me get there in my own time, okay?” 

“Then you have my undivided attention, Jules.” Eliot spent most of his time worrying about Quentin and Margo; he hadn't given as much thought to how everything was affecting Julia. She came off as so self-reliant and strong, but she was still dealing with everything Reynard had done to her, and she hadn't had years to put her trauma behind her the way he had. “You were telling me how no one stayed.” He prompted to get her back on track.

“Yeah.” She sat down beside him. The couch creaked under their weight but held. Eliot looped his arm around her shoulders and let her curl against him. “They say these two magicians eventually showed up, but they didn't give up after a couple of months as everyone else had. They stayed here for years working away at the puzzle with no progress. People gossiped that they were crazy for wasting their lives. A few years in, something changed. I guess one of them married, and while the pair didn't stop working on the puzzle life took its course. They had a family; it slowed them down. The Fillorians say the two of them spent their whole lives laying tiles hoping for the truth to a universal secret and a magical boon.”

“So what's the moral of the story, or the fable, whatever they call it?” Eliot asked. 

“It has a few interpretations I guess.” Julia had relaxed against him, now she sighed, and ticked the options off on her fingers. “That you shouldn't waste your life seeking power, to not waste every second of your life working, and the beauty of all life is actually taking time to live and enjoy the life you've been given. The Fillorians say that because they took the time to live and have a family the two magicians were happy here.”

“So what does this have to do with you, Julia?” She hesitated, apparently her tangent story hadn't left her as prepared as she had hoped. “You know,” Eliot caught and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “That Quentin looks at you like a sister, right?” 

“So?” Julia's face scrunched in confusion. Eliot leaned closer to her; his voice, when he spoke, was an amused conspiratorial whisper. 

“So do you know what that makes you to me?” 

“I have no idea.” 

“My sister-in-law.” A short bright laugh bubbled from her. Eliot pulled her tight, then kissed her temple. “Family, Julia. You can trust me; you wouldn't have brought me here if you didn't.” 

“You can't tell Margo, her eye...”

“I know about her eye.” The mirth dropped from Eliot's tone. 

“You can't tell Quentin either. I know you two don't keep secrets, but he can't know. Please?” 

“I won't tell Quentin unless circumstances change and he needs to know. Is that enough of a promise?” 

“I guess.” Julia tugged free from his hold to stand. Her fingers worked through a series of awkward poppers exercises. For a moment Eliot battled the urge to correct the bend of her fingers, then a shower of magical sparks exploded between her hands. He was speechless for a good thirty seconds, awed by the most inconsequential display of hedge magic possible. Light from the sparks illuminated the tears that streaked down Julia's face. 

“Julia, how?” 

“I don't know!” She let the magic die away and rubbed her fingers under her eyes. “I'm scared, Eliot. I'm getting more powerful. When I work with the Fillorians, when I help people who need it, it seems to help the power grow, so I chased it because I thought we could use it.” The couch creaked as Eliot got to his feet. Julia shivered in his arms when he pulled her to his chest. “Then a bird landed on my shoulder, and I could understand it when it sang. Sometimes I think I can hear whispers. This isn't the power I had before; it's different. I think Our Lady Underground might have left something behind when she gave me my shade back, but she won't, or can't answer my prayers when while I'm stuck here in Fillory.”

“Then we need to get you back to Earth. We need to get you away from the Fairy Queen before she feels threatened by you.” Just when he'd thought that things couldn't get worse, a new fear had taken root in his heart. Eliot licked his lips; unconsciously he held Julia to his chest more tightly. An inkling of an idea was starting to form in his mind. “I have an idea.” He assured her as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “Trust me, okay? And don't show anyone else what you can do.” Eliot doubted the questing beast Quentin encouraged him to track down could restore magic, but it was plausible they were powerful enough to send Julia back to Earth. “I can't promise it will work, but I have an idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the tease of the world to come! It's going to be quite a bit different from canon when I get that far. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are love. Thanks for sticking with me.


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